Descriptive Essay: New Orleans

I flew endorse to New Orleans and it was just the way I remembered it. The temperature was 98 degrees and the humidity was so high that reapplying deodorant is needed down here. The French/Spanish architecture gives it a sentimentalist and mysterious appeal. The air was non as fresh as I had wished it was exclusively at least I could cool it breathe. The air smelled of urine that had been there for years. The streets looked as if a cruller had swept litter back and forth through the town. Residents, not only tourists, walked past it as if trash belonged on the ground.

My gran picked me up from the airport and we drove back to her house. We graciously embraced distributively other for what seemed like an hour. I knew it had been a long duration since she had seen me.

Riding in the backseat of my grandmothers old beat-up, but still useful car gave me the chance to watch the happenings on the street. Grown men were standing on street corners dealings drugs waiting for addicts to come to get their fix for the day and jejune children were fighting in the parking lot of someone elses house.



The one thing I do enjoy rough New Orleans is the tranquil, serene elders sitting on their porches and stoops glancing back at me. This city looked as if it had been frozen in time. To itemize the absolute truth, I swear those same people I saw were in the same shoes when I go away New Orleans 6 years ago. I recollect things change, but many people stay the same.

Before I even knew it, we were at my grandmothers house. It is the one place where I know I can relax. It has that small cottage feel to it.

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